


Baked Goods

by SBK



Category: Daiya no Ace
Genre: Baking, Eijun is confused, Eijun is easily flustered, First Kiss, Fluff, Hard crushing, Kazuya has a crush, M/M, Multi Chapter, Pining, Slight Hurt, Slow Burn, cakes, kazuya keeps being rejected, kuramochi is annoyed, oblivious boys, very soft angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SBK/pseuds/SBK
Summary: Kazuya finds himself being tugged along on whatever baking quest Eijun is on, and almost always, without fail, ends with Kazuya being slapped right across the face.OrKuramochi calls Kazuya out on his feelings, and Kazuya panics.Or orSawamura Eijun is quite, literally, the center of the world for the catcher.





	1. Haruichi’s birthday

Kazuya isn’t sure why he’s here, adorned in a black apron that goes down to his knees, and a bowl in his hands. He’s not sure why he listed to the insistent begs from none other than Sawamura Eijun, but most of all, he isn’t sure why he’s humoring the boy so much. Before them are several ingredients, from eggs to chocolate chips, all to bake a cake for none other than the youngest of the Kominato brothers. Kazuya extremely, extremely, dislikes the sticky taste of sweets, so, naturally, he’s out of baking practice. Although he makes the occasional breads - he’s completely helpless here. Yet, he still tagged along. Eijun burst into his room, full of life, grasping at Kazuya with such determination, that part of it melted his heart… even if it was one in the morning. Kazuya sighed, and he knew it was already over the second Eijun said  _ please.  _

 

“Sawamura, do you even know how to bake a cake?” Kazuya muttered, and he knew it had gone unheard when Eijun began setting to work. Preheating the oven to the described temperature on the back of the box. At least the moron knew to follow instructions, so that much was a bonus - impressive. Kazuya sighed, and looked out at the ingredients lying before them: 

 

Vegetable oil 

1 ½ cups all purpose flour 

¼ cup Dutch process cocoa powder 

¾ teaspoon coarse salt 

1 ½ sticks unsalted butter 

1 ¼ cups sugar 

3 large eggs 

1 tablespoon raspberry liqueur (framboise) 

1 cup buttermilk 

4 ounces bittersweet chocolate 

 

There was even stuff for the filling, on a different counter of the kitchen. That contained: 

 

4 packages raspberries 

¾ cup plus 2 tablespoon sugar 

Pinch of coarse salt 

2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice 

Chocolate frosting 

 

All an all, this must have cost Eijun a fortune, and somehow, it was admirable. Deep down, Kazuya knew that if Eijun messed this up, it would pretty financially disappointing. With a sigh, he sets the bowl down. Casting a hesitant glance at the oven. It’s the wrong temperature! But Eijun is already elsewhere, and Kazuya supposes it won’t be the end of the world if he just fixes the slight mistakes the other makes. He fixes the oven to a good 350 degrees, before looking about. On a piece of paper is the recipe that Eijun jotted down, hard to read, but Kazuya things he gets the idea. 

 

He coats the pan that has been selected for this duty in cooking spray, and they don’t have parchment, so he supposed that’ll just have to do. The bowl that Sawamura shoved into his arms proved handy, as he sets it down on the counter and sets to work. He adds the flour, cocoa, baking soda, and salt, whisking them together speedily. Kazuya supposes baking really isn’t that hard, and although Eijun is technically doing nothing, it was still a nice thought. After he finished mixing together bowl 1, he sets it off to the side before finding another bowl, although shorter in form. He places butter and sugar in this one, and begins the same process, doing his best to achieve the light and fluffy look. His lips are pursed as he works away, finding his wrist to be aching in protest. 

 

Like a little kid watching their parent, Eijun’s eyes are glued onto Kazuya and his menstrations, and he can’t help but eagerly watch. It’s kind of adoring. 

 

“You dragged me along to help you, not bake the cake for you…” Kazuya complained, although he found he didn’t really mind all that much. Eijun simply rolled his eyes. 

 

“I can’t cook, everything I cook is always burnt.” He supplies a decent response, and Kazuya supposes that’s fair. 

 

Kazuya adds one of the three eggs to the sugar-butter mixture, stirring it up until it’s no longer seeable, before adding another egg, repeating, and then adding the final egg. He’s careful to make sure no egg shells slip into the batch, and he’s careful to crack them lightly against the side of the counter. Adding a few more ingredients as listed, including melted chocolate, he continues his mixing quest, working up quite the sweat as he sets about at making this perfect - not for himself, and not for Haruichi, but the excited southpaw standing in front of him. 

 

It takes a bit, but after finally combining all the ingredients as instructed, he’s made their batter. He’s careful to pour it into the pan, before sliding it into the oven to back, slow and careful to ensure he doesn’t get burned. 

 

“Well, Sawamura, were stuck here for about 30 minutes, seeing as I went ahead and made the frosting earlier and stuck it in the fridge.” Kazuya shrugs, but Eijun looks thoroughly impressed. Although the elder can’t help but notice a brown smudge next to Eijun’s lips, and he, without really thinking, brings his index and thumb fingers forward. He tilts Sawamura’s head upward, dragging his thumb along the chocolate intruder, until it’s all gone, and then licks it off his thumb slowly. Bitter, yet still sweet. God, Kazuya hates sweet things. 

 

Eijun is a mess, cheeks a bright, crimson red, hands waving around. 

 

“You can’t just do that…!!!” He squeaks, much like a bird with no wings, especially as he waves his arms up and down in a frantic manner. 

 

“I can’t just do what?” Kazuya asks, and no, he’s not poking fun he’s just genuinely curious. “Assist you with the chocolate on your face? I didn’t want you walking around making more of an idiot of yourself.” 

 

“That…! That’s not it, damn bastard! Tunaki! Dog!” Eijun shouts, his entire face becoming red now. Eijun brings a hand up, fingers gingerly pushing against the place in which Kazuya had previously drug his thumb against. 

 

“Dog? That’s new, and hurtful!” Kazuya wails. “Without me, you would have probably burned this place down, you should be nice to your kind, caring senpai!” 

 

“I’d be more grateful to someone nice! With a heart! And not a glasses wearing jerk!” Eijun sputters out, much like a broken car. 

 

“Ohoh… you’d be nice if I was nice? As tempting as that is… I’m not going to be nice if all I get is a little bit of gratitude.” With a shrug, the bespectacled man leans forward, their noses nearly touching. “You have to earn that.” 

 

Eijun’s ears turn red. 

 

Perhaps Kazuya came off too bold, especially when he allowed his lips to gently brush against Eijun’s nose after some time. 

 

Because a slap had echoed off the kitchen walls, leaving a red handprint against Kazuya’s cheek, and all the guy could do was pout, now abandoned in the sweet smelling kitchen. A sense of dread bubbled in his chest as he stared at the ground, man. 

 

That did not go as planned. 


	2. Sugar Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuya tries to sleep.

The next time Kazuya is snatched along for one of Eijun’s baking conquests, is during spring break - and although normally, practice still keeps going, Kataoka was sick, and Rei was gone visiting her family. A few of the dedicated sports team members were still out on the field however, swinging their bats, practicing their pitches, and honestly - Kazuya wants to be out there too. An itch to catch Sawamura’s pitches causes his fingers to twitch, and yet, here they are, in the team’s kitchen. This time the batter is already made - and Eijun is boasting about it. 

 

“Look, Miyuki, I already made the batter! How did I do?” Eijun eagerly stands on his heels, hair messy, a bit of the batter clinging to the boy’s clothes. Kazuya simply sighs, and he feels his heart melt. He supposes he has no choice then. He takes a spoon, careful not to take too much batter, before sticking it into his mouth. Mm, not too bad… but Kazuya hates sweets. The way it assaults his tongue is disgusting, but, if he liked them he’s sure this tastes fine. 

 

“It’s fine.” He states, rather bluntly, before looking at Eijun, who has the expression of a first grader being told they’re a big boy now. His eyes lighting up with joy, and the smile that overtakes his face - and geez, Kazuya only said it was  _ fine.  _ He helps Eijun prep the oven, butter the pan, and then they place the soon-to-be cookies in the oven. The intoxicating scent is enough for Eijun to have a smile on his face, whilst Kazuya grimaces. 

 

He’s about to ask if he can go, when his eyes catch the excited look on the other’s face. The way Eijun insistently watches the oven, as if magically willing time to go faster. It might have had the opposite effect on Kazuya however, staring at the boy as though time had come to a stand still. The way he’s hunched down, excited humming - so childlike - so loud. Kazuya looks away, cheeks starting to flush red. 

 

“So, it’s obvious Miyuki, you’re in love.” Kuramochi states, matter of fact like, and Kazuya nearly keels over on the spot. 

 

“I am  _ not. _ ” Kazuya retorts, though his cheeks did start to turn a bit red. It’s like Kuramochi had the magic mind reading ability to know Kazuya was daydreaming about one of Sawamura’s baking quests. But why should that even matter, it’s a completely professional relationship - Kazuya is not in love! 

 

Then why did he almost kiss the kid? 

 

He nearly slaps himself. 

 

Luckily, for him, he does not wear his emotions on his sleeve, a sly smirk slides over his lips. 

 

“I’m simply having fun.” Kazuya shrugs, before biting in the rice ball supplied by the school. And Kuramochi simply rolls his eyes, like an annoyed teenager of sorts. Kazuya turns around in his seat, eyes back on his desk. Is he in love? 

 

Is he really? 

 

—— 

 

“Sawamura, please, it’s four in the morning. Do we  _ have  _ to?” Kazuya groans, glasses slipping off his face slightly. He just got to sleep, for the first time in a long time, and was rudely awoken by the shouting brunette dragging him to the kitchen. 

 

“We have ta!” Eijun unhelpfully shouts, his hand clamped around Kazuya’s wrist like a vice, and all Kazuya can do is let himself be dragged into the kitchen once more. This time they’re baking sugar cookies, and luckily, the batter is made once again. Kazuya  _ hates  _ sugar cookies the most, and honestly upon smelling their overly sweet scent, he nearly blows chunks. 

 

Kazuya is half awake, just watching Eijun work away, and he’s not even sure why the other brought him here in the first place. Especially when Kazuya isn’t even helping, he’s just grumpily complaining about the time. One hour later, the cookies are presented - and they look fine, but not good. Of course they’re not good, Kazuya hates them. 

 

“Look! These look so good don’t they!” Eijun chimes, “try one! Please!” And the way those honey eyes lock onto Kazuya’s hazel ones… it’s over. 

 

Kazuya extends a hand, quietly asking for one, which Eijun happily supplies, grinning from ear to ear, pearly white teeth and all. 

 

Kazuya bites into it. 

 

The sugary sweetness invaded his tongue, and part of him is dying. It’s so  _ sweet,  _ Kazuya absolutely hates it. But, he does his best to eat it as fast as possible, nearly keeling at the way it sticks to his teeth. The sprinkles latching themselves onto his taste buds. God, it’s honestly revolting. 

 

“It’s good.” Kazuya responds, after watching the way Eijun eagerly awaits Kazuya’s response, who did his best to smile after being nearly poisoned. But if this keeps up, neither of them are going to bed any time soon, so Kazuya brings a hand forward. 

 

“Hey, come sleep with me.” Kazuya asks, forehead pressing against Eijun’s shoulder, his hands wrapped around Eijun’s waist. Kazuya nearly doesn’t even realize just exactly what he’s doing, especially paired with what he just said. 

 

_ Slap.  _

 

Kazuya is stumbling backwards, winding up right on his ass, his cheek burning all over again. Eijun’s cheeks are a bright, bright red, and he’s pouting. 

 

“IDIOT! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TRYING, STINKY PERV!!?!?!!!” And before long, Eijun is marching right out of their, angrier than ever. 

 

Kazuya knew Eijun would do that, that’s why he did it, so he could go to bed, but the stinging in his cheek and the sinking feeling his chest inform him - no, no he’s not going to sleep tonight. 

 

So there he is, abandoned in the kitchen once again. 

 

For the second time. 


	3. Emotions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuya freaks out... more or less.

The third time, Kazuya doesn’t even put up a fight, nor does he complain. It’s an ungodly hour of the morning, just like all the other times, but for Kazuya it’s different. He finds his eyes glued on the other’s back, unable to look away. Radiant. Sawamura Eijun is radiant. He can’t help but relive what Kuramochi said, “it’s obvious you’re in love” and maybe… Kuramochi was right. 

 

“Okay, so Miyuki, I made this for you.” Eijun sheepishly places a bowl on the counter, it’s contents being rather dark - like pudding - with a smidge of whip cream on top. Not a lot, and that’s surprising, because Eijun normally slathers an unnecessarily large amount of toppings on every dessert he makes. Kazuya grabs the spoon that the other kindly handed him, and dips it in. It’s smooth, easy, and he brings it to his lips and gives it a taste. 

 

It’s bitter. 

 

“It’s good…!” He gasps out, and he attacks it, wolfing it down like he’s never had food in his life. But it really is good, it’s only a  _ little  _ sweet, and it’s not bad! Thanks to the slight sweetness, the bitterness in general overpowers his mouth - and it’s delicious. And Eijun’s face lights up, eyes twinkling like the night sky. Almost as if Kazuya could make out the sun in Eijun’s face, the way his grin unfolds, rapidly, grinning from ear to ear. 

 

Thump… thump… thump… 

 

Kazuya’s heart is pounding, feverishly, and loud - demanding to be heard, almost seeming to beg to be heard, and Kazuya swallows - he tries to keep his mouth shut, but it’s just one of those rare moments when something snaps and you slip up - 

 

“You’re cute.” Kazuya can’t believe himself, did he just say that?! Eijun’s face is starting to get red, from the cheeks to the tips of his ears - until his entire face is that stark red. 

 

Slap. 

 

“Eh?!” Eijun gasps, and it’s because Miyuki Kazuya just slapped himself. His hand stays, planted against his cheek, and he keeps his eyes glued onto the wall. His hair hides his eyes, leaving his expression unreadable, and they’re both drowned in silence. 

 

_ Perhaps… I’ve always loved you…  _

 

Since the day Sawamura Eijun stood on that mound for the first time, to the banter between the first years as they argue who will be ace. Maybe it was when Eijun was first seen running along the horizon in the early hours of the morning, or maybe it was when they met for the second time - both of them ducked behind the shed. Maybe it was the way Eijun got so helplessly worked up, over the little things - how he fussed - how hard he wanted to  _ fix  _ things. Things that no one else even  _ cared  _ about - or didn’t know how to even address. Maybe it was the way Eijun stuck by Chris, working his way in - blooming life inside those dead eyes. 

 

Maybe it’s the way he cried when the 3rd years graduated, or maybe it’s the way Eijun sobbed when Chris wasn’t chosen for first string. Eijun - although an idiot, was so much more than just that. 

 

It’s the wetness that spills onto his hand, that draws Kazuya back into reality. Is he crying? He sure is, it’s an uncontrollable wetness, gushing from his eyes like a leaky faucet - and God when it starts it doesn’t stop. He’s hunched in on himself now, both hands brought to cover his eyes, pushing up his glasses - this is so embarrassing! 

 

“Mi- Miyuki- Gah-“ Sawamura had walked around the counter to more or less comfort the sobbing guy, but instead of being able to, Kazuya had launched his arms out, yanking the other into a tight embrace. Although sitting, Kazuya still managed to ensure that the hog was tight enough the other couldn’t escape. 

 

“I luff ahdhjgjd.” Kazuya mutters into Eijun’s shirt, and Eijun can’t make out a word the other said, between his crying and the way his mouth is pressed Sawamura’s shirt - but he’d feel bad if he didn’t come up with a response! 

 

“It’s okay! Miyuki, you’re a great catcher!” 

 

Oblivious. 

 

This time Kazuya is the one reeling backwards, sniffling, wiping at his eyes, adjusting his glasses. 

 

“Thanks for the… yeah.” Is all he manages, before scooting out from his seat, quickly leaving the kitchen, and Eijun doesn’t follow. His voice is hoarse from crying, and he walks as fast as his legs can take him, and it evolves, into more than that - he’s sprinting. Running as fast as he can, shoes thumping against the ground, hard - he launches his head back and he  _ screams.  _

 

He’d ran the opposite direction of the dorms, actually ran into the field, and whilst screaming like he was being murdered, his foot caught on something. He tumbles forward, rolling more or less, before winding up on his back. Face, elbows, hands scraped, and his glasses fell off somewhere on the journey downwards. Kazuya is not the type of person to run around outside screaming at five am, no that person is Sawamura Eijun. 

 

“GAH!” Kazuya shouts, hands thrusting themselves into his already messy hair, messing it up even more.  _ Stop thinking about him, dumb idiot!  _

 

The stars are pretty from here, making themselves bright and known - allowing people to admire their beauty from hundreds upon thousands of miles away, and Kazuya has yet another intrusive thought. 

 

_ Sawamura is prettier.  _

 

He launches himself upright, both hands pressed against his cheeks now, completely embarrassed beyond belief. Is he- no- it can’t be! Haha! No way- Kazuya coughs. He picks himself off the ground, brushes himself off, bends down and picks up his glasses, slips them on, and marches back towards the dorms. 

 

—-

 

“He’s avoiding you.” Kuramochi responded, sipping at a juice box whilst flipping through a random sports catalog. He’s lying on his lack, one leg tossed carelessly over his knee. The two of them are on the roof, their most popular lunch hangout. Typical. Kazuya is seated with his back against the fence, pouting slightly, various bandaids on his arms from the tumble he took three days ago. 

 

_ He’s avoiding you.  _

 

Kazuya bows his head, defeated. 

 

“I finally got that kid to leave me alone!” Kazuya breathes out, voice sounding a lot more confident and secure than he actually feels. But his heart is pounding rapidly, and his hands are screaming - 

 

_ I want to catch your pitches…  _

 

“Now I don’t have to catch his pitches, or hear him whine about it so much.” But who is Kazuya trying to convince, Kuramochi - (who seems utterly unenthusiastic about their current conversation) or himself. 

 

A magazine comes into contact with Kazuya’s forehead. 

 

“You’re acting weird and it’s pissing me off.” Kuramochi grumbles, peeling himself off the ground, before escaping through the roof door, abandoning Kazuya alone. 

 

_ Acting weird?  _

 

——

 

The ball tumbles from his mit, and although it’s practice, and everyone is doing their own thing, all their eyes are glued onto Kazuya - who feels a sudden heat with their gazes. In front of him, Furuya looks disappointed, lips brought into a thin line. 

 

“Dropped…” He states, as if it wasn’t obvious enough, and Kazuya shakes his head, tossing the ball back to their ace. 

 

“My bad.” Kazuya chimes, laughter escaping him, so loud that the dugout is essentially shaken by it. But it seems awfully strained and forced. Furuya raises a brow in confusion, before doing his windup, allowing one of his typical fast balls to fly forth. 

 

But all he sees, in his mind, is Sawamura. That southpaw flicking out his arm so fast - so unpredictable - how it soars through the air - fast, hard to hit. How it comes into contact with his mitt, how he’d catch it, and throw it back - how beautiful their battery is - 

 

_ Thump.  _

 

“Shock…” Furuya grumbles, and Kazuya has dropped  _ yet  _ another ball. It’s their allotted fifteen minute break, and Kazuya spends it in the bathroom splashing water on his face. What is  _ wrong  _ with him? 

 

“Man… why won’t Chris catch my pitches…! Why’d he have to graduate…!” Comes in an all too familiar voice, and turning Kazuya’s Head- they make eye contact. 

 

“Tunaki!” Eijun shouts, pointing an accusing finger, and Kazuya lets a mischievous grin slide across his mouth. 

 

“Oh? Well if it isn’t Bakamura.” Kazuya inches closer, before pounding on the other, slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Thought you could just avoid your senpai and get away with it, did you?!” Kazuya asks, although an evil look is on his face - and it sends Eijun into panic mode. 

 

_ Slap.  _

 

Kazuya has been ditched, for the third time, in the men’s bathroom with an ugly handprint on his face. 

 

Yet his heart won’t stop pounding. 

 

“Sawamura…” Kazuya whispers, softly, to no one but himself, and maybe it was just to hear the boy’s name on his tongue. 

 

He shakes his head - rapidly - as if he can shake away the thoughts. He grabs his catchers helmet from the sink counter, and waltzes right on out of the bathroom, beckoning Furuya over - a grin plastered on his face. 

 

“Give me your best pitches, nothing less, okay Furuya!” Kazuya calls out, lowering himself into the squatting position. 

 

Things feel normal…

 

For now. 


	4. Curry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eijun has a strange request this time.

An insistent knock at his door is what peeps Kazuya from the black void of sleep, and annoyance results in his refusal to peel out of bed and answer it. But the knocks keep coming, and Kazuya finally, tugs himself out of his bunk. He he lands with grace, despite being so groggy, and tugs open the door, grumbling out a  _ what?  _

 

It’s Eijun, of course it is. 

 

“Miyuki, come bake with me.” He begs, those hands reaching forward and grabbing at Kazuya’s shirt. “I wanna make something for Kuramochi- I broke his favorite controller! He threatened to kill me!” Whines the second year, and Kazuya can only stare at the other, lips pursed. Yet, something about the wavering voice, and the way he begs - eyes honey - Kazuya realizes he’s a bee, and Eijun is the nest. 

 

“No.” Kazuya grumbles, not humoring the boy for the first time ever, and he shuts the door. Abandoning Eijun on the other side, who sounds incredibly offended. He opens the door, and Kazuya had yet to back away, and they crash. Eijun’s overly excited movements drag them both onto the floor. Tangled up in each other- and Kazuya squirms uncomfortably. 

 

No matter how tired he is though, the intrusive thoughts return - Sawamura is pretty. Lying on Kazuya the way he is, with his hair brushing against his cheeks - so messy and shaggy - so like the boy’s personality. Kazuya jams his palms into Eijun’s shoulders, hard, practically launching the other off him at God speed, and Eijun goes flying back into his ass with a groan. 

 

“You coulda jus told me to get off you, jerk!” Eijun bristles, much like an angry cat, and Kazuya starts laughing. It’s weaker than normal, but it’s probably because he’s tired. 

 

“Sorry, sorry. But you’re the one who came in here, so late in the hour,  _ demanding  _ that I save you from yourself. Don’t you think it was a bit deserved!” Kazuya cackles, and Eijun is scowling much like a little kid would. 

 

“MIYUKI KAZUYA!!” He shouts, and it echoes off the walls, and before the boy can shout anything more, Kazuya is reeling forward on his toes, quickly scrambling to place a hand over Eijun’s mouth. 

 

“Shhh…! Are you trying to piss everyone off? The brigade of sleepless boys is horrifying,  _ please  _ use your brain for once in your life…!” Kazuya practically whispers, and he’s mainly so panicked because the door is wide open. Eijun pries at the hand covering his lips, and before long he’s managed to tug it away from his face. 

 

Then Sawamura becomes like a robot, face deadpanning into a poker face. 

 

“I am sorry for my late intrusion into your humble sleeping chambers! I will do anything if you help me make Kuramochi food!” 

 

“Ugh why-“ and then Kazuya pauses, eyebrows knitting together. “Food?” Although Kazuya learned cooking as more of a survival necessity, less of a fun way to pass time, he didn’t particularly hate doing it. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Kazuya inquired, a grin folding over his lips. 

 

Eijun glares. 

 

“WELL EXCUSE ME- EMMFCJIDKA!” Eijun is cut off once again, by Kazuya’s hand. 

 

“Bakamura, shhh!!!” Kazuya practically pleads, it’s like this moron has no sense of time, and how much sleep Kazuya has been missing out on. Not that it matters, he supposes, he hasn’t been sleeping regularly for a long time, so it’s really nothing that interesting. 

 

So Kazuya follows Eijun to the kitchen, and there’s multiple ingredients for curry - and before Eijun can do anything, Kazuya has already started chopping away. Much like a little kid, once again, Eijun eagerly watches. Kazuya is quick and swift, well practiced motions, and a good scent is starting to bubble forth. It was 4:30 am when they started, and 5:30 when they finish the yellow curry. They wrap it up on a plate, and place it in the microwave to keep it warm. 

 

“Okay, you have dishes.” Kazuya states, matter of factory, as he unites the apron from his body. He slings it up on its rack, stretching his tired, groggy limbs above him. “I’m going to try to sleep, don’t let anyone else see that - oh and you made it, I didn’t have anything to do with this, okay?” Kazuya raises an eyebrow, and Eijun simply nods his head. 

 

“Thank you, megane bastard!” Eijun states, starting to gather the various pots and pans that they had used, working hard to scrub them clean in the sink, and Kazuya feels an eyebrow twitch. Although he doesn’t bother retorting this time, and simply rolls his eyes as he takes his leave. 

 

“Don’t cut yourself.” He whispers, mUch like a parent would a child, before he goes about returning to his room. Once he’s snug in his bed, beneath the covers, nothing but the blue light filtering in through the window to keep him company - he comes to a disappointing conclusion. 

 

He can’t sleep. 

 

He lets out a sigh, and doesn’t really waste any effort peeling himself out of bed. He just lies there, dead to the world. It’s not long before life returns in the dormitory, people talking groggily, some complaining, some boasting - Kazuya however, feels nothing short of a zombie with no limbs.

 

With a sigh, he shakes his covers off, shoving his feet into his shoes. He’s always one of the last people to filter out of the dorms into the cafeteria, and when he rounds his face, he’s shocked to see Kuramochi inhaling the curry previously made. It brings a smile to his lips, even though ‘Mochi doesn’t know, or can’t know, it’s nice to see someone enjoying his fo- 

 

WAIT! 

 

Horror- that’s the only emotion Kazuya feels, bubbling in his chest - 

 

Multiple people have come to the table to inspect the scene, some have begun  _ begging  _ Sawamura to make them some too - and Sawamura is laughing, agreeing to every request - and Kazuya wants to die. 

 

Things really have turned back to normal. 

 

Despite the overwhelming fear in his chest, he figures, he can use this to his advantage however. Maybe he can strike a deal with the southpaw? 

 

“Ohoh…” Kazuya laughs, under his breath. 

 

“Creepy.” Furuya murmurs, however unhelpful that might be as he passes Kazuya, who simply shrugs in response. 

 

This is going to be good. 

  
Kazuya allows a smug expression to overtake his face, grabbing at his food tray without much hesitation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooo two chapters let’s go


	5. Nagano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's new years.

This time, when Kazuya is jostled awake, it’s confusing. What on Earth? Kazuya reaches a hand out, only to have it roughly grasped by something warm. When Kazuya peels his tired, sluggish eyes open, he’s shocked to find molten gold in his vision. Sawamura’s eyes almost seem to glow in the morning light, shimmery with passion - and Kazuya is absolutely enthralled in their beauty. Thrown around, tossed about, in those eyes that remind him of the sun. 

 

“We’re going to be late…!” Eijun desperately whispers, quite literally dragging the catcher out of his bed. Kazuya stumbles without grace taking a second to regain his balance, and when he does he looks incredible. Hair spewn about, a look of agitation on his face, those prominent eye bags he always wears but right now they seem much worse.

 

“Late for what…?” Kazuya groans, taking a hand to pinch his nose, and Sawamura gapes at him like Kazuya is some kind of dumb creature. 

 

“For the train to Nagano?” Eijun grasps Kazuya’s shoulders, shaking him to and from. “Y’know, I asked you to come with me to Nagano so we could get some baking supplies from my family - all of Seidou wants your cooking.” Eijun whispered, albeit harsher, still giving Kazuya a shake, who finally whacks away the persistent Southpaw. 

 

“I’m going back to bed.” Kazuya harshly growls out, doing his best to avoid that look in those eyes, those eyes that yank Kazuya in. Forcing the catcher to let down his steel guard. 

 

And that’s how Kazuya found himself half awake on a train to Nagano at five in the morning. It was New Years week, so they were granted the duration off from school. Some of the dedicated players stayed behind, practicing their swing or their pitching, some practiced their running, some of the second and third string players ran amuck on the field, now having full reign with a majority of the school gone - including the first string. Kazuya wanted to be on the field, but here he was on this train, with a half asleep Sawamura clinging onto his arm. Eijun had plucked various random items from Kazuya’s drawers, jamming them into a random backpack he had found. It was with incredible speed too, no less than fifteen minutes was Kazuya being hauled along the sidewalk, the harsh morning air slapping him awake. 

 

The worst part is, Kazuya couldn’t sleep now. The pitcher exerted incredible heat, warm and enticing, and all Kazuya wanted to do was pull the southpaw closer and fall asleep. No, he did not like the pitcher in that regard, Sawamura was just so warm - like a puppy, and he was kind of cute… Kazuya harshly shook his head, finding his cheeks warming up in embarrassment. 

 

When they’d arrived in Nagano, one of the last train stops, Kazuya shook Sawamura awake. The pitcher eagerly gathered their things - Kazuya’s too, and immediately scrambled off of the train. Kazuya sluggishly moving behind the excited boy, a groan escaping him as he found the air to be slightly cooler than that of Kokubunji, but that slight difference sent a shiver gliding up his spine, causing him to hunch into his sweater more. Eijun was, for lack of a better word, astounding. The boy was hauling their stuff with him, winding through the station with such ease and familiarity, that Kazuya nearly got lost a few times. It was nothing like the blistering crowds of Western Tokyo, miles away from here. Kazuya, finally, felt a smidge of relief when they’d finally broken through the rather confusing, old and worn train station, arriving along a dirt road that was littered with rocks. 

 

Kazuya found himself shocked to find a woman in overalls driving the truck, she had long brown hair matching that shade that Sawamura sported. It was thrown up into a bun, and she had dirt smudged against her face, hands and arms. Her clothes were worn, and dirtied, and Sawamura all too happily hugged her. They had the same eyes, though the woman wore a softer tone to her eyes. 

 

“Miyuki-san! It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard so much about ya from this lil’ trouble maker. Hopefully my idiot son hasn’t bothered you too much.” She giggled out, much to a fuming pitcher’s dismay. It wasn’t long before Sawamura tossed their items, with a special amount of carelessness, in the back of the truck. It was a white truck, rather run down with a few rust stains on it. Climbing into it was uncomfortable, and the springs of the seat dug painfully into his rear. It was probably one of the most uncomfortable experiences Kazuya has ever undergone, but he hadn’t said anything and simply opted to stare at the scenery. The multiple trees and farms they strolled past, until finally, they arrived at a rather nice looking home. 

 

“Here you are, I’ve got some work to do out in the fields, so you two go ahead and make yourselves comfortable - especially you Miyuki-san. You’re going to be here for the week, after all, and don’t think it’s just a free ride! We’re going to put you to work, you lazy boys.” The woman shouted, and Kazuya found himself with a lot of questions as they slipped from the car, Sawamura plucking their things from the back before the truck rolled off. 

 

“My mom.” Eijun supplied, unhelpfully, as if Kazuya was so stupid that he couldn’t realize that based off of the  _ my son  _ statement she’d earlier said. 

 

“The whole week?” Kazuya asked, slight agitation in his voice - he was annoyed. 

 

“The whole week.” Eijun murmured, slightly flushed in embarrassment. “Unless - Unless you don’t want to, then we can zip out of here as fast as a-” 

 

“It’s fine.” Kazuya interrupted, a sigh escaping his lips. It wasn’t fine, but admittedly, part of him wanted to know how this brat got his defining features - how he was able to be so boldly stupid. Were all of the Sawamura’s like that? Eijun lead them inside, kicking off his shoes at the front door. 

 

“So, we have a guest room you can stay in - I think, they might have filled it with boxes and stuff though, as a temporary shelter - it’s probably full of freshly picked produce that they can’t sell this early, but it’s cold too, so if they leave it outside it’ll go bad. But if it isn’t cold enough in here, they’ll get gross, so naturally the best solution is to fill the room with ice blocks and make it cool enough, but not as cool as outside - y’know?” Sawamura rambled on, waving his hands about as he spoke. Kazuya had no idea what any of that meant, and offered a slight laugh.

 

“Okay, so what you’re saying is, I’ll sleep on the couch?” Kazuya asked, quirking a brow, and Eijun looked almost offended at such a suggestion. 

 

“No… No! No way! Miyuki, you’re my guest, you’re not going to sleep on the couch - you’re going to sleep on my bed.” Eijun grinned, from ear to ear, and Kazuya couldn’t help himself. He leaned forward, his lips gently grazing Eijun’s cheek, before leaning back. 

 

“Ohoh, your bed?” He cooed, smirking at the flustered look that had begun blooming across the southpaw’s face. Kazuya knew he could get away unscathed this time, thanks to the bags in the boy’s arms. He brought a hand, gently brushing some of Eijun’s shaggy hair from his face. 

 

“YOU-.... YOU JERK!” Eijun flustered, face turning an overwhelming shade of crimson, and before long he was bolting up the stairs in the hall. Kazuya couldn’t help the cackled that escaped him as he casually, slowly, walked after the speedy boy. Eijun’s room was small, and Kazuya couldn’t help but feel a little jealous at the pictures lined on his desk - none of which were him. He wasn’t quite sure why he was jealous over such a minor detail, it wasn’t like Kazuya had any pictures of the pitcher that he kept around. 

 

The bed, however, was much more comfortable than the ones Seidou supplied, and much more comfortable than his own. He’d found himself prematurely curling up in the blankets and pillows, whilst Sawamura started unpacking his and Kazuya’s clothes. 

 

“So, I’ll put your stuff in the clos-... Asleep?” Eijun whispered the last part, so softly, and Kazuya was not asleep. He pretended to be, just so the boy would grant him some silence for a moment, to take in the current predicament he’d found himself thrown in. Eijun crept over, silently, the only signal of his movement was the creaking of the floorboards. Eijun gently, took the glasses from Kazuya’s face, setting them down on the desk nearby. “Man, if only you always looked like this.” Eijun whispered, fingers gently pressing against Kazuya’s cheek. 

 

“You’d think I was creepy if you knew how long I stared at you while you sleep.” 

 

Kazuya did, in fact, find that comment rather creepy. He also felt rather self conscious, at the idea of the pitcher finding him in his most vulnerable state, especially at how often the boy woke Kazuya from his slumber. 

 

“Bahah, you really are that “pretty boy” catcher everyone talks about.” Eijun whispered, although part of it sounded sad - distant. “And a notorious flirt, disgustingly so.” Sawamura though, pressed his warm lips gently against Kazuya’s forehead, before abandoning the room, heading downstairs after shutting the door with the thump of his feet. Kazuya sat up afterwards, eyes wide, fingers pressed softly against his forehead. His heart was railing into his ribcage, loudly flooding his ears, he felt hot - hot with embarrassment. He had a lot to take in just now, and he couldn’t breathe. Eijun walked back in, suddenly, right at the moment that Kauzya was grasping at his chest and wheezing, cheeks a burned red - and they made eye contact.

 

Kazuya’s vision was slightly blurred, thanks to the glasses that had been stolen from his face, but he could make out those fiercely gold eyes anywhere. The way they swirled with emotion, and Kazuya found his heart beating even faster - shockingly so. 

 

“Mi- Miyuki?! Are you okay- are you sick?!” Eijun gasped, walking over, so oblivious to Kazuya’s awakeness - and Kazuya was acting with minimal brain, and he grabbed the boy’s shirt, and leaned up and he’d really only wanted to ask  _ you really think and do those things?!  _ But instead, stupidly so, he’d launched his lips up into Sawamura’s in a messy, choppy kiss where they bumped teeth. 

 

_ SLAP!  _

 

It was much harder than the other slaps he’d received thus far, and Kazuya stared at the wall, lips parted. He was staring at the wall, ahead of him, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at Sawamura, he didn’t want to try and explain that he hadn’t meant to do that - because Kazuya meant to do everything he did, that was a moment of weakness, there was no way he could explain that to Sawa- 

 

“Miyuki Kazuya.” Sawamura growled out, and Kazuya found himself looking at Sawamura obediently, much like a dog would if their master was angry. The pitcher’s cheeks were dark, dark red, tears threatening to spill along his cheeks. “You have… You’ve gone too far this time! How dare you! That was my first kiss- the other stuff is fine, I guess - that's just annoying flirty teasing - but this! THIS!” Sawamura waved a hand at his lips, and the tears had begun to spill over. 

 

“Is unfair…!” He rasped, voice strained. Sawamura’s face was wrinkled up in a cringe, a wince of sorts, as he wiped at his eyes, desperately trying to hide the tears that had begun their cascade down his face, and Kazuya was speechless. Not a word daring to slip from his mouth, and he looked down at his lap. 

 

“I…” He whispered, but his voice was nothing but a hoarse croak - he couldn’t believe it, Sawamura Eijun was crying over his first kiss. Kazuya had taken Sawamura’s first kiss, and without realizing it, Kazuya had also given the pitcher his first kiss. It seemed kind of ludicrous that this catcher, constantly fawned over by a multitude of female fans had never had a kiss before, but alas, that was the truth. He’d only ever invest his time in baseball, dictating how the field would react and go - and Kazuya hadn’t realized his own tears had begun to drip from his chin, staining the blanket below. 

 

“I’m taking it back!” Eijun shouted, announcing it, and Kazuya only had time to spare a  _ wha-  _ before his face had been yanked to face the pitcher, and he found a pair of chapped, warm lips against his own. It was rough, rougher than the previous one they’d shared, and Sawamrua was crawling over Kazuya, much like a lion hunting his prey. Eijun had his hands pinning Kazuya’s wrists down against the bed, and his knee had been wedged between the catcher’s thighs - 

 

Kazuya couldn’t stop the tears from spilling from his eyes, not even fighting off the advances of the pitcher - he wasn’t sure if they were happy tears or sad tears, wasn’t sure why exactly he couldn’t end the onslaught of wetness that poured from his face. He wasn’t sure if this is what he wanted, if this is what he was desperately gunning for - if this is why he allowed himself to be tugged along on whatever baking conquest Sawamura was on next and - 

 

Eijun fell back. Lips no longer attacking Kazuya’s, the hard grip on his wrists going slack. Eijun kneeled in front of him, resting on the heel of his feet. His eyes were full of something unknown, and the way those tears had stained his face and - 

 

“I… I’m so… sorry…” Kazuya hicked, and he found himself shocked that he couldn’t even say something so simple, and the way Eijun looked taken aback by his apology - 

 

“Me too…” He whispered, sheepishly, looking away. He sniffled, a long hard sniff, that sounded kind of disgusting - and Kazuya scratched his cheek. He gently, hesitantly, raised a hand to take Sawamura’s cheek. 

 

“You look pretty cute on top of me though, so scary~!” He cooed, seductively taking his free hand, sending it sliding under the back of Eijun and his shirt and - 

 

_ Slap. _

  
  


That was the second time in one day, let alone in the same hour, that Miyuki Kazuya was slapped against the cheek. This time lying on the southpaw’s bed as he stormed off, out of the room, down the stairs with burning cheeks - again. And Kazuya found himself caught in a trance, staring at that worn ceiling - and he blushed furiously, remember that he’d just slammed his lips against Eijun’s moments sooner - and then he realized it, all at once. 

 

He liked Sawamura Eijun, more than just liked, he  _ really  _ liked that boy.

 

Kazuya rolled over, screaming into one of Sawamura’s pillows. This was going to be a long week, he’d concluded.    


	6. Shrines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kazuya and Eijun's grandpa talk

Kazuya couldn’t relax, ever since the rough smashing of their lips together, and the feel of Sawamura’s rough mouth against his own - he couldn’t relax. The hammer that had become his heart rung in his ears, painfully slow, and he couldn’t peel himself out of bed. Finally, he supposes he should chase the pitcher down and explain it was an accident - a real accident. But alas, as Kazuya was trailing down the stairs, creeping like he was guilty of a heinous crime, he found himself spinning on the heel of his foot right back up the stairs. His fast movements wound him up on the southpaw’s bed all over, thrusting his face into his hands. 

 

“I meshed up.” He mumbled into his hands, that squished into his face, blissfully unaware of the older man standing in the doorway, an amused look on his face. 

 

“Oh? What have you done?” He inquired, and Kazuya answered without hesitation. 

 

“I acshidentally kished a moron.” He shrunk further into his hands, before launching right up onto his feet, cheeks a reddish color as he waved his hands. “Not- Not like that! Like friends.. Like a friendly- no, I do  _ not  _ like him, he’s an idiot! Annoying! Obnoxious!” Kazuya panicked, waving his hands back and forth, before letting out a strange laugh. 

 

“Oh? Who kisses someone as friends, boy?” The man hobbled over, flopping down on the bed with a creak. He pat the spot next to him, and Kazuya sighed and slowly dropped back onto the mattress. His cheeks were still red, and he still hadn’t adorned his glasses yet. He pursed his lips, in a half hearted pout, trying to come up with a proper explanation for his rough kiss with the Sawamura boy. 

 

“My idiot grandson would probably believe such a ridiculous excuse, but I know that look in your eyes.” He spoke, fondly, staring off into the corner of the room as if reminiscing a distant, but not a far gone time. A smile slowly stretching onto his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling. “I’m old, but I’m not stupid, Miyuki. If someone had told me I’d fall for that idiot girl in class 1-A, I would have laughed. She was loud, and her eyes were made from that of the stars. She was horrible in math, even worse in english, though she knew big words.” He paused, casting a glance to Kazuya. 

 

“Sound familiar?” He inquired, and Kazuya jumped in his seat, cheeks burning even darker, as if he’d been scorched. His whole body felt hot and sweaty, brain racing as he couldn’t get the thoughts of the wild pitcher out of his brain. How that kiss they shared burned him, how the multiple times he’d been slapped resulted in a dull ache within his chest - the flowers of rejection he’d come to know. It all came to a hammering hault with the slight press of Sawamura’s grandfather’s hand pressing into his shoulder, gently rubbing it. 

 

“In due time, you’ll realize. Hopefully it won’t be too late, people do have a thing for idiots.” Sawamura’s grandfather peeled himself from the seat next to Kazuya, pausing in the door frame. “You can call me Eitoku.” He lifted a hand, offering a curt wave, before hobbling down the stairs, humming an older song. And Kazuya had felt absolutely burning, ablaze, hot and sweaty. He was suddenly aware of so much and yet not enough, his heart - his heart hurt, and his hands, slow and careful, lifted to grasp at his chest. It was so fluttery, as though it was trying to spread its wings, and all he could see was golden eyes full of stars and mercury- and beyond that, of tanned skin kissed by the sun, speckled with freckles, with white balls that launch off of long finger tips, and unpredictable arm. So unique, unique to Sawamura - and Sawamura was an interesting boy, who cared so much - too much about those around him, as though he’d been overtly blessed with the sensation of loving - loving everything and - 

 

“Miyuki-senpai, mom made lunch.” Sawamura Eijun came skipping up the stairs, no sign of their previous incident in sight - and Kazuya had offered a soft smile, plucking his glasses up off the desk and slipped them onto his face. If he loved this boy, this boy as much as he thought he did, as much as everyone thought he did - 

 

“Shall we eat then, Sawamoron?” Then how was he able to keep his composure? 

  
  


\----

  
  


Kazuya could not keep his composure. Sawamura’s mother made ham and cheese sandwiches, accompanied by sliced watermelon and lightly sweetened green tea - it was filling. The pitcher wolfed everything down, and Kazuya had been slightly slower but he still was able to consume all that was offered on his plate. Afterwards, Sawamura was insistent that Kazuya come with him to visit the shrine - even though new years was still two days away, and Kazuya had softly agreed to go with him. 

 

The shrine was located up on the mountain, and it took a good hike to get there, wading through weeds and forest brush until the long red staircase could be seen. They’d cheated, and taken a shortcut in the end, avoiding the long walk into town, and then out of town on the other side. Sawamura explained he’d done this ever since he was a kid, because it was easier and faster, and plus the temple would be more crowded on new years so it was just easier to get it over with. Although Kazuya was almost certain that’s not how it worked, he still trailed behind, shoes kicking up dirt and doing his best to avoid bugs. He’s never felt like a pampered city boy until now, when a grasshopper skipped out in front of him, before jumping into the brush once more, and he had to bite back the squeal that threatened to peel from him. After that encounter, he started rushing along, eager to get out of the bug infested forest. 

 

Once they’d broken through, to the red stairs, and managed to climb all of them all the way to the top, Sawamura had a serene expression. He looked soft, content, in the moment he was caught up in, closing his eyes and inhaling sharply through his nose. Kazuya had finally understood what Eitoku was saying, about the affections that bubble within for - for well, idiots. Because Kazuya wanted, more than ever, to brush the hair from the pitcher, to take his hand into his own, to press his lips  _ more gently  _ to the burnette. He wanted to caress his cheek, wanted to let his lips linger longer than they should, he wanted so much - he wanted so much from Sawamura, but expecting things will get you burned and Sawamura is made out of molten lava and stars. 

 

“Sawa-”

 

“Let’s go, pray, hurry!” Sawamura chanted, eyes slipping closed as a smile sprung to life over his face, and Kazuya found his voice caught in his throat. He did as he was told, without hesitation, following after the boy - and part of him, quiet, was disappointed that he hadn’t told the pitcher what he had wanted. 

**Author's Note:**

> Soft


End file.
